#rafeybabey

Warnings: Rafe shoots Y/n

He did it. Rafe had finally got rid of you. Standing right above you with the gun quivering in his hand, he takes a good look at your almost lifeless body, your chest still rising slightly and blood pouring out of your gunshot. You’re too weak to fight back.

“I told you I’d fucking get rid of you.” He smiles a little to himself and turns, ready to finally be rid of you forever and leave you to bleed out, except… you don’t get up and stop him. Rafe waits a second, knowing that you always love to get him by surprise and somehow wriggle out of every attempt he’s had to kill you, but nothing happens. He can still hear your little pants behind him.

His eyebrows pinch together, and he turns back to you, still left in the same position.

“Y/n?”

What the fuck?

This isn’t supposed to happen. You’re supposed to get up and attack him so you can slip away. What would he do with you dead? Spend the rest of his days drinking and snorting cocaine? You’re supposed to stay alive.

“Y/n.” Rafe repeats, his heartbeat quickening at every second passing with you not moving. He crouches down, dropping the gun on the floor to grab your face and give it a small smack. Your head lolls in his hands, lips pale and black eyelashes no longer fluttering open. He repeats your name over and over, panic rising in his chest as he realises you’re dying. And it’s his fault.

“Fuck! Come on, I need you! ” His voice trembles as he wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the floor and holding you close to his warm chest.

Warnings: none, just Rafe being an adorable daddy and husband.

It was a successful work day for Rafe. He smiles faintly at himself in the mirror as he loosens his tie and finally removes it, throwing it beside him on the arm of the sofa. The previous night, You had given him some advice considering how stressed he was for the meeting, and if it wasn’t for that, he probably would’ve fucked it up.

He crinkles his nose a little, noticing a familiar faint smell of your perfume from the exact place he’s standing. Your smell permanently lingers in his office, as you always visit him in the mornings to let him put your necklaces and earrings on. In particular, you enjoy watching his eyes light up when you ask him.

Truth is, Rafe melts whenever he looks at you in the mirror. For the past few months, you’ve preferred to wear sundresses as they’ve been the most comfortable for your belly. And Rafe loves it. The dainty ones you pick that compliment the soft curves of your shoulders and expose the silky skin of your chest with Rafe’s necklace hanging just above your cleavage. Then when you look at each other in your reflection. God, that face. Your bright eyes that shine with the sun poking through the window at the perfect angle. Your lips slightly red from the tinted lip balm you use every morning. He considers you the most perfect woman alive, and he’s not ashamed to let people know.

Suddenly, Rafe cocks his head at the door at the sound of little footsteps in the hallway. He smiles, realising it’s his daughter. His sweet, beautiful little princess.

"Daddy!" She yells, her small and tender voice ringing like music in Rafe’s ears. When she finally gets to the office door, her hands thump heavily on it, and she has to use her body weight to push it open.

"Is that my girl?" He calls out to her, and she giggles at the sound of his voice. When she finally manages to push the door open with a little grunt, Rafe’s smile turns into a grin when he sees his cheerful daughter and he welcomes her, crouching down with his arms out as she runs towards him. She squeals with excitement as he stands with a small groan, his large hands holding under her arms and spinning her small body in the air for a moment before burying his face in her soft hair and giving her a loving kiss on the head.

"What did you do with Mommy today?" Rafe looks down at his daughter’s little face, smiling at her as she fiddles with the buttons on his shirt. He admires how much she has of her mother’s face, the same bright eyes and tinted cheeks. She even pulls the same little frown that Y/n does when she’s focused on something.

"Shopping."

Before Rafe can reply, he notices a faint, sweet smell in the air and catches a small glimpse of white from the corner of his eye. He knows exactly who’s just walked in the room, and he quickly looks up out of excitement to be greeted with your beautiful smiley face, or what he likes to call, his angel-face.

And you give him exactly that. Smiling at him so adoringly in your dainty white sundress as you watch him fawn over your little girl. Rafe feels like a fucking kid ogling his favourite candy as he looks at you, and he loves it. The whole moment just makes him feel like he’s living on a fluffy cloud.

"Hey baby." Rafe holds his free hand out to you, wanting to hold your face after not seeing you all day and you walk towards him. As you lean your cheek on his outstretched hand, loving the snug fit and warmth that emits from his palm, you shut your eyes at the feeling. Rafe watches your face relax at his touch as he caresses the side of your face, and he brushes your cheek softly with his thumb. He just wants to kiss you and kiss you and kiss you, but he only leans in to give you a gentle peck as mini Y/n 2.0 is held in his other hand.

When you pull away, you both smile at each other for a second longer before you stroke your daughter’s hair to get her attention. She gives you an adorable grin, the rosey apples of her cheeks rising as she smiles.

“Can I go play?” She turns to Rafe again, and he nods, kissing the side of her head before he sets her down. She scuttles out of the office, and you look back at your husband, giving him the same sweet smile you haven’t been able to wipe off your face since you walked in the room. You can’t really help it, but fortunately, he can’t either. He holds both sides of your head, and a small giggle emits from you as he pulls you towards him and kisses your forehead.

"Oh mama, I love you so much." He mumbles against your skin.

"I love you too."

Rafe looks down between you two at the bump your dress covers, and he smiles, his hands still resting on both sides of your head. This right here, is his happiness. His home. You’ve given him what he’s been longing for his whole life. A loving family, something he can come home to. There’s even another little Cameron growing inside you, and he wants nothing more in the world than to hold him already.

He bends down to kiss your belly through the thin fabric, and you run a hand through his hair.

“Can’t wait to meet ‘im.” His lips tickle as they brush over you a little when he speaks. As he stands upright again, you have to lift your head slightly to look at him. He’s not too tall, but you’re not too short. You’re the perfect height for forehead kisses, and Rafe loves to take advantage of that. He rests his forehead against yours and shuts his eyes, giving you a peck on the lips.

Warnings: Rafe threatening Y/n with a knife (kinda?)

You sit on the edge of Rafe's bed, fiddling nervously with your fingers. Rafe’s chaotic mind blurs with his feelings towards you as he paces back and forth in front of you, knuckles turning white as he grips onto his knife. His hands raise to both sides of his head, and you notice his fists are shaking, as if he were to lose sanity and himself. A rush of panic and coldness rises in your chest, shortening your breaths as the confrontation makes the air suffocating. No matter what he did, or how hard he tried, nothing in the world could make you love him. You gulp, staring intently at Rafe’s face as expressions flash across it. He looks confused, almost. Like he doesn’t understand his own feelings. Like he’s about to break.

Shit.

Is he going to kill you?

You run the thought in your head over and over, and suddenly, all the witty, confident remarks you would have made are gone. Was he going to lunge at you with the knife? Slit your throat? Hell, maybe stab himself? Rafe shakes his head, tongue in his cheek.

"I've done everything for you." He whispers, but he doesn’t even look at you. To be honest, he’s speaking more to himself. He questions why, after everything, you still don’t love him. In fact, he’s confused as to how you don’t love him. Has he not done enough?

"Rafe.” You just manage to squeak out his name, bottom lip quivering and hands shaking as they sit on your lap. Rafe suddenly stops in his tracks and rushes towards you, and you flinch. He notices and stops just as he stands in front of you with the knife at his side. He’s so close. Close enough to make the hairs on your skin stand. Close enough to make you feel a bit of heat from the lack of space between you two. So close, that you have to look up at him. Rafe is much taller than you anyway, but even more when you’re sitting. He admires the way you look up at him in this moment. Wide, doe eyes and your stupidly perfect kissable lips. He wishes he could kiss you, and it makes him remember why he’s like this in the first place again; You don’t love him, and his gut wrenches at the feeling.

"Why don't you love me, Y/n?" Rafe now has a different tone in his voice. It’s sounds softer, and less harsh than when he talks to the pogues. Or anyone, for that matter.

"I don't know." You whimper, shaking your head at him. Even you don’t know the reason you don’t love him. Rafe has done everything for you. Even when you didn’t want him too.

"What do you mean you don't know?” His voice rises again at that, and he points the knife at you, making you flinch once again. “Just fucking tell me!”

"I don't fucking know, okay? You’re unlovable. You’re batshit crazy, and I hate you. I fucking hate you. I will never love you.” As soon as the words leave your lips, Rafe’s eyebrows pinch together and he swallows hard, readjusting his strong grip on the handle of his knife. He doesn’t say anything, and for some reason, something inside your chest hurts too. That very pain makes it hard for you to even look at him, so you turn your head to the side and shut your eyes tightly, now ready for anything he may do to you with the sharp metal clenched in his fist.

“Y/n.”

With eyes still shut tightly, you shake your head again.

"Say you love me.”

A shaky sigh escapes you, and you’re about to tell him you can’t until you hear metal clang on the floor and feel warm skin paired with soft hair against the skin of your thighs. Your eyes snap open and you gasp, looking down to see Rafe on his knees in front of you, his head laying in your lap.

“Just once. I wanna hear you say it just once.” As Rafe whispers, his warm breath fans against your skin, and it feels even colder with tears dropping from his eyes onto you. As a loyal pogue who is supposed to hate kooks, especially Rafe, you should feel proud of yourself. You’re meant to use this as an advantage to hurt him and get a one up on him for you and your friends. But… you don’t. Instead, you feel guilty. This is the least you could do for him. Hesitantly, you lift a hand and softly stroke his hair, eliciting a small content sigh from Rafe. He’s grateful to even feel your touch.

“I love you.” You whisper, and you feel Rafe’s arms hug your legs, like he’s scared you’re going to run away and disappear.

“Please,” He whimpers. “One more time.”

Rafe clings onto you, no longer caring for how he’s made himself vulnerable to you. If he knew everything he did would lead to you saying you loved him, even if it was fake, even if it was just for a moment, he would gladly do it again. And again. And again. And again until he was fucking sick of you. He knew that could never happen though. How could he get sick of you? In this moment, he lays there, waiting desperately to hear the words come from your mouth one last time.

Warnings: none

“Wh- what are you doing, Y/n?” Rafe looks at you with a puzzled look on his face, his arm slung around your neck and your arm around his waist, stumbling as you help him to the door.

“And what are you doing?” You retort, gently settling him against the doorframe and allowing him to breathe in the fresh air. “You’re drinking again, Rafe. What will people think?”

“With you always around, who can hurt me?” The corner of Rafe’s lips lift into a small smirk, and you roll your eyes. Classic Rafe. It’s clear he’s making fun of you, but he’s right. You’re only the maid. You’re always around the house, yet so useless to him and his father’s business. Your concern doesn’t really matter.

“I didn’t know I bothered you that much.” You were going to take care of him, but after that comment, not anymore. Now annoyed, you turn on your heels to leave him there, but he speaks again.

“Y/n.”

What now? Another fucking insult? You abruptly turn, hands on your hips and raising your eyebrows at him, but you cower quickly as he turns to face you properly, removing an arm off the doorframe. You flinch out of panic as Rafe’s large hand comes up to caress the side of your face and when you look up at him, his pupils are dilated and he’s focused on your flushed face, or more importantly, your eyes and lips.

“They all think I’m an alcoholic, that it makes me weak.” Rafe hesitates for a moment before saying his next sentence. “Thank god they don’t know what my real weakness is.”

You stare at him wide-eyed as your breathing quickens, and Rafe strokes your cheek with his thumb as if to comfort you.

Rafe finally finds the girl that melts his cold heart, until she’s struck by an unknown sickness.

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Kisses,